


Sand Between Our Toes

by wayward_dream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Bobby is a grouchy supportive uncle, But I promise a happy ending, Canonverse!AU, Cas is a selkie, John Winchester is an asshole, M/M, Sam is a meddling moose, Some angst, Some pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-01-11 08:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_dream/pseuds/wayward_dream
Summary: A chance encounter on a beach changes Dean's life in a way he never could have predicted. And despite the trouble it stirs up, Dean wouldn't have it any other way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr post about how you give a selkie their coat back after they drop it and they become besotted with you and tell you that you're engaged their way, and then....my finger slipped.
> 
> It's been a hot minute since I've wrote fanfiction, and I don't have a beta, so....sorry if it sucks. I have the first few chapters written out and I know how I want it to end, but I don't yet know how long it will be so....bear with me :)
> 
> Feel free to visit me on my Tumblr, @wayward-writes or @wayward-dream!
> 
> ~Dy

It was all Sam’s fault, really.

They’d finished up the hunt their dad had sent them on, and Sam insisted that they sneak off to celebrate Dean’s birthday instead of reporting to John.

Dean was going to say no. But...it wasn’t every hunt that brought them near somewhere nice, like a beach. And now that the spirit that had been drowning spirits was ganked, well....sure he’d gotten some soggy gas station pie on his actual birthday a few weeks ago. And Sam had stolen a new hunting knife for him, and John had updated his fake ID’s. Not Dean’s worst birthday.

Still. How often was he going to get a chance to feel the sand between his toes?

Plus, Sam may be going on fourteen, but the kid still had a baby face with the saddest puppy dog eyes in town and he knew just how to use them against Dean.

So, here they were. On the beach. Sam splashing around in the shallows while Dean enjoyed the sun and stayed on the sand, keeping an eye on him with a faint smile. He’d even used the credit card John gave him to get them both ice cream; he was currently licking the melted drips off the side of his cone. And seeing Sam having so much fun was worth all the trouble he knew he’d get into with John when he inevitably found out.

For now, they didn’t have to hunt or fight or lie or do anything that was considered normal for them. And Dean was having a good time.

Eventually, he hollered to Sammy that he was going to get drinks and wandered off barefoot to the concessions stand by the boardwalk. Dean got in line behind the only other guy there, trying not to stare.

The guy was slim, but not fragile-looking, he had a muscular build like a runner or swimmer, and long legs. He looked like he was college age, maybe two or three years older than Dean. His dark hair was damp and tousled, and what Dean could see of his jawline was chiseled like a marble statue. Dean bit his lip, listening to the guy speak in a low, gravelly voice that made him shiver for reasons that weren’t the cool breeze blowing in off the beach.

The weirdest thing about the guy, though, was that he had a coat tied around his waist, and it had sleek brown fur like a seal's, even though it must have been at least 80 degrees out. Then again, Dean supposed, if he was going to be swimming and staying late, he might get cold, so maybe he just liked to be prepared.

The vendor handed the boy his drink, and Dean caught a flash of blue eyes and a whiff of brine as blue-eyes brushed past him, calling out his thanks. He was about to order his drink when he noticed the guy’s coat had fallen. Frowning, he bent and grabbed it, quickly jogging after blue eyes.

“Hey!” he called out, but the boy paid him no mind, seeming lost in thought as he wandered towards the water. “Hey,” Dean said again, grabbing his arm lightly as he caught up to him. Wide blue eyes immediately bored into his and Dean choked on his words, his heart abruptly racing for no reason he could pinpoint.

“You, uh….you...dropped your coat,” he stuttered, awkwardly holding it out with a nervous grin. Said blue eyes widened even further, and he took it almost reverently.

“Thank you,” the boy told Dean with heartfelt sincerity, touching his arm gently. Feeling heat rush to his cheeks, Dean muttered a “no problem” and scurried off.

“I thought you were going to get drinks?” Sam pouted at him, then frowned. “Dude are you sunburnt?”

Dean winced, feeling himself darken another shade. “No, Sammy, I’m fine. There was...just a long line at the concessions so I bailed,” he excused lamely. Sam squinted at him for a moment but didn’t call him out on his lie. Dean sighed in relief.

“Whatever. ….. Your phone’s been ringing,” Sam informed him glumly. Dean felt his stomach knot, knowing what that probably meant. Sure enough, when he checked his phone Dean saw a number of missed texts and calls from John. 

“Shit. Sam, we’d better get going.” Sam sighed, but nodded and rushed to gather up their things and climb in the Impala with Dean. As Dean drove off, he caught a glimpse of blue eyes, looking almost forlorn as he stared. Dean almost paused...but he had work to do.

He watched the figure get smaller in his rearview mirror until it vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

When you finish a hunt, you tell me boy!” John snarled, pacing back and forth. Dean was staring at his feet, head bowed and shoulders hunched as he endured his lecture. His wrist still throbbed a bit where John had grabbed it and dragged him in before shoving him down to sit on the motel bed.

“Yes, sir,” he muttered.

“When I call, you answer. I expect you not to make mistakes like this in the future,” he added. Dean flinched a bit, nodding silently. Finally seeming to calm down, John sighed roughly. “You had me worried, Dean. You can’t pull stunts like this in our line of work.”

Guilt made his stomach churn. “I-I know….I’m sorry, sir,” Dean whispered, his throat choked. His eyes stung but he knew better than to cry in front of his dad so he forced his emotions back, nails biting into his palm.

John sighed. “So tell me about the hunt.”

* * *

 

Months went by, passing in blurred miles of road and completed hunts, and Dean forgot about the blue-eyed boy. Mostly. Sometimes, he’d think about how sincerely he’d thanked Dean, the warmth and kindness in his eyes, as blue as the ocean framed behind him. But he wasn’t the first person Dean had had to leave behind, and he wouldn’t be the last. It was something he’d resigned himself to.

Until B.E. suddenly popped up again.

Dean was alone this time. Sam was with John on a separate hunt, but John had sent him after a kappa. Dean had to call Bobby for help on lore, and had to do a lot of posturing and arguing with the local authorities trying to keep a lid on the weird missing persons cases that they weren’t able to solve, to avoid panic. But he’d finally tracked the sonuvabitch down and had the appropriate weapons.

Or so he thought. The creature’s underbelly was hard like a turtle shell, which hadn’t come up in any of his research, so his first strike was deflected. The kappa took advantage of his disorientation and launched at him, knocking him into the marsh and slashing at his throat. Dean swore and wrestled with the beast but it pushed and his head was shoved into murky, muddy marshwater. Dean struggled and flailed, his lungs burning, but blackness engulfed him.

*-*-*-*

When he came to, a familiar gravelly voice was pleading frantically for him to breathe, and warm hands were doing compressions, making his ribs throb. Coughing, Dean smacked the hands away and rolled over to throw up what felt like gallons of salt water and mud, eyes watering.

A warm hand rubbed soothing circles on his back until he caught his breath, and Dean slowly relaxed. Once he was done retching, he looked up and...yes, that was him. Blue-Eyes. Somehow, he’d found Dean and saved him from--

“The kappa!” Dean blurted out, eyes wide. “Did it get away?!”

B.E. looked a bit sad as he shook his head and pointed off to the side. Turning his head, Dean saw the kappa face down in the marsh, his knife stuck through the back of its head. Dean turned an awed gaze back on blue eyes.

“You….saved my life,” he murmured, reaching for B.E., who reached back and gently laced their fingers together. Dean felt himself blushing, but couldn’t bring himself to pull away. “I don’t even know your name….”

“Castiel. I’m Castiel,” the boy breathed, and was he blushing too? It was hard to tell, the sun had gone down so it was dim and getting difficult to see, but Dean thought he might be.

“I’m Dean. Castiel, thank you.” Dean squeezed his hand gently.

“It was the least I could do. I’m yours, after all,” Castiel murmured, reaching up to rub his thumb along Dean’s cheek. Dean realized distantly that he was filthy and shivering, but he was too lost in Castiel’s words to focus on that just yet.

“You’re--uh--what….what do you mean?” he stammered, knowing his blush was darkening a few shades. His stomach was fluttering, but no longer in the ‘I’m going to hurl up more marsh’ way and more in the ‘oh fuck there’s a cute guy within kissing distance’ way.

“I’m yours,” Castiel stated simply again. Like that explained everything. When Dean just stared at him wordlessly, mouth gaping like a fish, he tilted his head quizzically. “Don’t you remember? What you did for me?” He seemed distressed at the idea that Dean might have forgotten him. Dean found himself speaking hastily, almost like he wanted to reassure Castiel.

“You mean when I returned your coat…? Sure I remember, but it’s not a big deal--”

“Of course it is. It was everything.” Castiel held his face gently in both hands now, a shockingly tender and warm expression on his face. “Such a noble, gallant gesture. By my laws, I’m yours.” He took Dean’s hand and held it up, and it was only then that Dean noticed a silver ring that certainly had not been there before, plain with inlaid pearl and sea glass, and a matching one on Castiel’s finger.

“....by your laws…?” Dean latched onto the only thing Castiel had said that made sense, struggling for coherency and barely holding back panic. 

“Selkie law. I shed my coat to walk among your kind, and I lost it...you returned it, rather than stealing and keeping it, but you did retrieve it. So by our laws, I’m yours.” He smiled warmly. “We should...be bound together by your laws, as well...so I made these for us.”

Dean stared some more. Maybe he was delusional from lack of oxygen to his brain. Because this...this couldn’t be real. Things like this didn’t happen for Dean.

Castiel, however, was already speaking again, moving closer. “You’re cold,” he murmured, wrapping his slender arms around Dean and pulling him close. Dean nearly choked, gently pushing Castiel away. The hug felt nice but...he’d just admitted he wasn’t human, and John hadn’t raised him to be brought in by sweet words and pretty smiles from anyone, and especially not from monsters.

“Look….Castiel...I need to get back to my family...how did you even find me?”

“I’ve been searching for you since you departed,” he told Dean, looking forlorn now. It nearly broke Dean’s heart, how sad he looked, but he steeled himself against the pity for the poor creature that made him want to reach out and return the hug. “I need to stay by sea water unless one of your kind holds my skin, but I was hoping you’d come by a body of salt water soon enough….and you did.” He smiled brightly, all teeth and very pink gums, but almost immediately his face darkened. “And that kappa was trying to harm you. Trying to take what was mine.” His words edged into a growl and Dean felt himself shudder.

“Well...thanks again for saving me, but I really do need to let my family know I’m okay--” Dean began, getting a bit shakily to his feet.

“Will I see you again?” Castiel interrupted, sitting up on his knees and looking at Dean with such earnest hope, it felt like a knife twisting in Dean’s heart.

Still, he hesitated. “I...don’t know. This job I do….it has me moving around a lot. Maybe,” he added, when Castiel looked crestfallen and watery-eyed. Dean’s amendment sparked a bit of hope in his blue eyes again, a tiny tentative smile curling his lips.

“I hope I do. Can I at least walk you to your car?” Castiel asked as he got to his feet as well.

Dean should say no. He knew he should say no. But...he was tired and drained and wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t pass out again before getting back to the impala. So, albeit reluctantly, he nodded. And when Castiel’s face lit up, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

They walked back to the impala in silence, and when Castiel reached out and gripped his hand, Dean couldn’t make himself pull away for reasons he refused to look at too closely. When they arrived at the car, Castiel opened the door and Dean felt himself smirking a bit faintly as he climbed in. “Such a gentleman.”

He pulled the door shut and started the engine, but Castiel tapped on the window. Sighing, he rolled it down and waited. Castiel rested his hands on the bottom of the window and leaned in, speaking quietly. “I hope I do see you again, Dean. Until then, be safe.” Then he touched his lips to Dean’s forehead and withdrew.

Dean was still gaping after him as he vanished back into the marsh.

His skin tingled where Castiel had kissed him the entire time he drove to Bobby’s.


	3. Chapter 3

When he arrived at uncle Bobby’s, Dean’s first order of business was borrowing a phone to call John, since his own had been destroyed by salt water. Dean told him about the kappa, omitting only Castiel’s involvement, and John seemed pleased that he’d handled it alone. He told Dean to stick with Bobby until he came to get him, since he and Sammy had a few things to wrap up, and then hung up.

Guilt at keeping a secret made his stomach clench, but Dean didn’t want to admit his...engagement?....to a selkie until he knew more.

After showering and changing into fresh clothes, Dean dove into research. Bobby gave him a queer look, since he’d usually be hitting a bar to hussle at pool or use his fake ID to get plastered, but left him to it. He was in the middle of something with Rufus and “not looking to get tangled up in your idjit nonsense”, he grumbled at one point. Dean just grinned and kept the covers of the books he was poring through hidden.

Over the course of the next few days, Dean read up on all kinds of selkie lore. Some stories painted them as gentle, harmless creatures, often the victims of humans where they were enslaved when their skins (in the form of coats) were stolen and kept from them. But it was never that black and white, and Dean also read stories where beautiful selkies lured men into the ocean and then drowned them.

Dean thought back on his first interaction with Castiel, how close they’d been to the ocean and how Dean had...admired him...and the cold, predatory anger in Castiel’s gaze when he’d growled about the kappa trying take what was “his”. He so nearly could have been a victim of that fate.

But….Castiel had also saved his life...had gone far out of his way to do so. And...he touched Dean so gently, looked at him with such adoration.

Dean’s head hurt.

* * *

 

Dean still had the ring.

It hung on a leather cord around his neck, always tucked under his shirt. He just….couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it, and at night in the dark, while listening to Sam and John snore, he’d often find himself turning it over in his fingers and thinking of far-away oceans and intense blue eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bc I have no self-control and i now have the whole-ass fic outlined plus several more chapters written if not edited, have a 3:30 a.m. smol update with some pining


	4. Chapter 4

It was nearly a month later that he saw Castiel again. He’d kept the selkie’s existence a secret from his family, knowing his father would react in the worst way possible and insist they hunt down Castiel and kill him. He’d say Dean was cursed, or enchanted, or that Castiel was lying and planned to hurt him. And Dean just…didn’t want to have to listen to it.

Sam seemed to sense he was hiding something, but Dean always deftly evaded his probing questions and pretended he didn’t see the concerned puppy dog eyes.

John sent Sam and Dean off alone together, to hunt down a glashtyn, a half-horse, half-shark creature that sometimes took a human form to prey on human girls, and went off with Bobby on a job of his own. Dean feared (hoped) that the job being near salt water meant he’d see Castiel again, but there was no way he could refuse a direct order from John without a  _ really  _ good reason.

They interrogated the only surviving witness and found that she’d narrowly escaped the glashtyn. After a silent argument of bitch-faces and glares, they decided that the best way to find the creature would be to use the girl as bait. 

Dean smooth-talked her into it and didn’t miss the way she fluttered her lashes or how her touch lingered on his arm, but he pretended he had.

* * *

 

They were doing it tonight. Dean was all adrenaline and excitement; he and Sammy had each armed themselves with spears tipped with venom-soaked snake fangs (gifts from Bobby, who knew how to kill glashtyn; serpents were apparently their natural predators) and were waiting while the girl, Katy, wandered the beach.

Dean should have been watching Katy, but his gaze kept straying to the moonlight glittering on the water’s surface. Hoping for a glimpse of blue eyes, tousled hair….a warm, gummy smile….

He was shook from his reverie by a shriek piercing the calm of the night. Snapping back to focus, he saw a boy carrying Katy over his shoulder towards the water, Sam already in hot pursuit.

Cursing, Dean scrambled after them. In a desperate gamble, Sam threw his spear. It hit the glashtyn in the leg and it tumbled, dropping Katy. Dean helped her to her feet as the creature turned on Sammy with a snarl.

“Go,” he told her. “ _ Run.”  _ She didn’t hesitate to obey him, fleeing across the sand for the safety of dry land and home.

_ “Dean!" _ Dean felt his heart stop when Sam screamed his name. He whirled and spotted the glashtyn had Sam in the water and was dragging him under. He charged after them but they disappeared under the surface before he caught up. Desperate, he dived under, spear clutched tightly in his fist. But no matter which way he turned all he saw was black water and dim moonlight, and bubbles from his breath.

His clothes weighed him down and he started to sink. Kicking desperately, Dean backpedaled until he felt sand under his feet. As soon as his head broke the surface, Dean cried out hoarsely:  _ “CASTIEL!” _

For a long, terrible moment, there was only the sound of wind and the whoosh of waves, and Dean started to cry, moving sluggishly through the water. Then: “Dean?”

Dean turned as quickly as he could and nearly sobbed in relief to see Castiel a bit deeper in the water, wading closer. Holding up a hand for him to wait, Dean gasped out, “Glashtyn--my brother--Castiel, please--”

The selkie’s gaze hardened as he nodded, speaking sternly. “Which way did they go?” His eyes looked almost black in the night and Dean felt cold fear clench around his heart at the idea of this creature going after his brother. But….what other hope did Dean have? With a shaking hand, he pointed. Wordlessly, Castiel took Dean’s spear from him and vanished underwater.

Dean slowly clambered onto the sand, hugging his legs and staring at the water, afraid to hope the longer the silence stretched. He’d nearly given up and was starting to cry again when Castiel’s head emerged, followed by his torso; in his arms was a soaked, unconscious Sam. Dean stood and raced to meet them. “Is he--?”

“He needs cpr,” Castiel said in a tight voice, laying Sam in the sand. Swallowing, Dean nodded and began compressions, breathing for his brother. As he was doing that, desperately muttering “c’mon, Sammy, you can’t die on me,  _ please, _ ”, he noticed Castiel resting a hand on Sam’s abdomen. It seemed unimportant...until said hand started to glow with silver energy, like moonlight. Dean tried to watch as much as he could without pausing his repetitions, as Castiel slowly moved his hand up so it hovered over Sam’s body, towards his esophagus and then hanging above Sam’s unmoving blue-tinged lips.

Tendrils of water were slowly dragged from Sam’s mouth, and Dean froze, staring in awe. Castiel drew what seemed an insane amount of water out and then waved his hand, the water dropping to soak the sand next to them instead of clogging Sam’s lungs. “Keep going,” he told Dean, falling to his hands and knees and breathing raggedly. Dean caught a flash of the silver that had glowed in his hands making his eyes shine before they faded back to blue that looked black in the night. It was only then that Dean noticed a cut in the selkie’s side, sluggishly oozing blood.

“You’re hurt…” Dean started to reach for him, but his focus was stolen when Sam started coughing and sat up.

“D-Dean--?”

“Sam!” He pulled his little brother into a near-suffocating hug. Sam seemed too dazed to do anything but just lean against him, weakly clutching him back. Looking over the top of his head, Dean looked at Castiel and murmured, “Thank you.”

Castiel nodded tightly, and Dean felt his heart thud, blurting out, “If you come with us we can take care of your wound--”

“I can’t stray too far from the water, Dean, I told you--”

“Give me your coat,” Dean interrupted recklessly. He was dizzy with relief that Sam was okay, and he was cold, and tired, and Cas had saved both his and Sam’s lives now, and he still had the damn ring. So he continued a bit breathessly, as Castiel stared at him wide-eyed, “Give it to me, and I’ll...protect it, while we take care of you. And...once you’ve healed, you can have it back, I promise. Just...let us help you.”

Castiel reached out and took hold of one of Dean’s hands from where it rested on Sam’s back, squeezing gently. “It’s already yours...you don’t need to ask for it.” His eyes shone but he was smiling as the fur coat seemed to materialize around his shoulders. He shrugged out of it, wrapping it around Dean like a blanket. Dean blushed.

“Dean...who…?” Dean froze. Right. Sam was still here.

Dean cleared his throat. “Sam, this is...Cas, a….friend of mine. He saved you.” Dean’s voice cracked a bit at the thought of how close he’d been to losing Sam, and Cas squeezed his hand again. “But he’s hurt, and you need rest. So we’re gonna go back to our motel room and you’re gonna rest and I’m gonna take care of him. Okay?”

“Okay….” Sam seemed skeptical, but was obviously too tired to argue the point just then. Dean got up and pulled Sam’s arm across his shoulders to help him walk, then looked at Cas, biting his lip. Cas got to his feet, slowly and with a wince, but he seemed able to walk on his own. He nodded to Dean with a faint smile, so Dean began leading the way back, grateful their motel was near the beach. A real tourist trap, but it was the slow season so there weren’t a lot of people, thank god. Dean unlocked the door and shoved Sam towards the bathroom to take a hot shower and clean up. Sam stumbled a bit, but mumbled “jerk” just before closing the door.

“Bitch!” Dean called after him with a relieved grin, knowing Sam would be okay. He turned his focus to Castiel. “Here, come sit.” Dean grabbed an extra towel from the closet, and the first aid kit from his duffel bag, and sat by Cas. “I have to warn you,” he said seriously, meeting Cas’ eyes, “this is going to suck. That’s gotta be cleaned and stitched up, and I don’t know if alcohol is safe for you to drink so I’m not really wanting to give you any. But...you can hold onto my arm, if you want.” He added the last part hesitantly, feeling a blush warm his cheeks.

Castiel nodded, sliding his fingers up Dean’s forearm before gripping on tight to his shoulder. Dean shivered, but passed it off as cold from his still water-logged clothes, and looked down, starting to clean the wound. Each time Castiel hissed or flinched, he winced and murmured an apology. As he began to get the stitches ready, he murmured, “Will you tell me what happened? The distraction might help us both.”

Castiel’s grip tightened on his arm until it was sure to bruise, but Dean didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes down as the selkie began to speak in a rough voice. “When I’d caught up to the glashtyn, it was preparing to feast on your brother’s flesh. I had to distract it by wounding it, and in its beastly form it had sharp claws on its forelegs, so when it lashed out it cut me. I was able to kill it with the spear I took from you, but then I had to rush to bring your brother back to the surface before he drowned and was beyond my power to save.” He was starting to tremble, and Dean touched his wrist briefly where Cas clung to him, squeezing gently.

“You’re doing great,” he encouraged. “I’m nearly done. And the...magic...you did, to save Sammy?”

“The same I performed on you, after the kappa….it was the only way to purge your systems so you wouldn’t drown. ...you called me Cas, when introducing me to your brother.” 

“....it just kind of slipped out,” Dean murmured sheepishly. Finished with the stitching, he started to dress the wound, and Castiel’s voice eased, his fingers loosening their grip on his arm and starting to wander.

“You called me your friend,” he whispered, fingers finding the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck and combing through it gently, working through the damp tangles.

“You saved my life, and my brother’s, of course you’re a friend,” Dean replied a bit shakily as he finished dressing the stitches. He couldn’t make himself lift his eyes, until a gentle finger hooked under his chin and tilted it up. Castiel’s eyes captured his, and Dean couldn’t look away even if he wanted to...and at the moment, he really just didn’t want to.

“You still wear my coat,” Castiel murmured, and when had his face gotten that close? Also, when had Dean’s hands let themselves rest on Cas’ waist? Dean didn’t know, but he was mesmerized by the gentle touches and deep blue eyes locked intently onto his.

“It’s...warm, and it...fits me surprisingly well,” he spoke absently, lost in Castiel’s deep gaze. The answer seemed to please Castiel, who broke into that blinding grin of his.

“It is technically yours, as am I.” He leaned in and kissed Dean’s forehead again, the touch making Dean’s skin tingle. Dean let his eyes fall shut, exhaling shakily, not quite a sigh that ended up swallowed by Castiel’s mouth, which was suddenly ghosting over his in a touch too light to be considered a kiss.

Dean gasped his name quietly, fingers on his waist tightening, and Castiel murmured his name in return, cupping his jaw and tugging him closer to kiss him properly. It was chaste, and sweet, and left Dean aching--

”Gross, Dean!”

Like a spell shattering, Sam’s voice had Dean’s eyes springing open as he jerked away from Castiel. “S-Sam--”

“Dude, if you’re going to make out with your boyfriend I want my own room,” Sam complained, and Dean choked, staring at him.

“He isn’t--that’s not--shut up!” he blustered, turning a brilliant shade of red. It probably didn’t help that Castiel’s hand was still in his hair, and Dean’s hands still held his waist.

“Whatever,” Sam huffed. And then he softened. “I won’t tell dad….and he did save my life, so I can’t be too mad. I just don’t want anything gross going on while I’m in the room.” He wrinkled his nose.

Dean dropped his face into his hand with a groan, but Castiel just chuckled. “Apologies, Sam. I have rather strong feelings for Dean, but I wasn’t sure until tonight that they could be reciprocated. I promise, we’ll behave.”

Dean lifted his head to stare at Cas, the unspoken question,  _ ‘You’re staying?’  _ answered by Castiel’s steady gaze and calm smile, and the reassuring squeeze of fingers on the nape of his neck,  _ ‘Of course, as long as you’ll have me.’ _ Dean was so lost in the silent communication he didn’t even realize they were slowly gravitating closer again until Sam cleared his throat. Dean straightened again, sliding a bit away from Castiel so his hand fell away. Dean ached as soon as he lost the touch, but it was necessary to distance himself to keep these...urges tamed.

“Whatever, I’m going to bed. Dean, you should shower, you stink,” he informed them before flopping down on his bed.

Dean scowled at Sam’s back and flipped him off, but….a shower did sound nice. He touched Castiel’s arm and very quietly explained to him how to work the t.v., and once the selkie seemed sufficiently fascinated, grabbed sleep clothes and went into the bathroom.

He took a longer hot shower than strictly necessary, thoughts of Cas...his warm fingers...his soft kisses, and his big blue eyes….necessitating he ‘clean the pipes’ if he wanted to control himself at all tonight. Once he’d brushed his teeth and gotten dressed, he hesitated only a moment before sliding Cas’ coat back on over his Led Zeppelin t-shirt and tucking the ring under his shirt again and going out to check on his…..his...on Cas.

Cas was still bare-chested and wearing the dirty, bloody pants he’d been wearing when he came to their rescue. Dean touched his back gently. “Do you want to borrow something clean and dry to sleep in?”

The instant Dean’s fingers brushed against his skin those blue eyes snapped to his, and he smiled when he saw what Dean was wearing, his voice soft. “That would be nice. Thank you, Dean.” Dean nodded and went to his duffel, pulling out a pair of sweats and an AC/D t-shirt he thought might fit Cas. He added a pair of socks and boxers for good measure. He brought both over to the selkie and nudged him gently in the direction of the bathroom. Thankfully, Cas took the hint and went into the bathroom to change.

Dean sighed once the door shut softly, settling on the edge of his bed and raking a hand through his hair. His thoughts were too murky and tangled to sort through, and now that he was clean and warm he was too tired to try. He flicked off the lamp by his bed and laid back. Even the shitty, lumpy motel mattress felt like bliss to his worn-out body, and dreamless sleep claimed him as soon as his eyes fluttered shut.


	5. Chapter 5

When he woke, quiet breaths puffed against his neck and he was encased in warm arms, and he could hear the t.v. going.

Cracking an eye open to look between his lashes, he saw tousled hair near his face, and past that Sam was absently munching on some scrambled eggs he must have made for himself, sat cross-legged on his bed watching some documentary on the t.v.

Dean peered down to find the top of Castiel’s head filling his vision; he could feel the selkie’s face pressed against his neck, warm arms encircling him and his legs tucked up so he was in a ball, loosely tangled with Dean. Between Cas snuggling up and Dean wearing his coat, Dean was feeling overheated, but...he was still sleepy and could easily drift off again. His arm was asleep pinned under Cas, but otherwise he was terribly comfortable like this.

He was safe, Sam was safe, Cas was resting and healing, and Dean was being held by someone he trusted….yeah, he could handle staying like this a little longer.

Sighing quietly through his nose, Dean let his head drop down and shut his eyes again, content to let himself just drift on the edge of consciousness. He only stirred when his phone rang.

Groaning, Dean flopped out his free hand until he grabbed it, mumbling a groggy, “Hello?”

“Dean.” John’s voice in his ear had Dean feeling much more alert. He immediately sat up, dislodging a grumbling Castiel with a guilty grimace, flexing his fingers as he tried to get the feeling back into his arm. “Sam told me you’d finished the hunt and were both alright. Bobby and I are wrapping up our case, we should be there to get you some time tonight so be ready.”

Dean felt his stomach drop in dismay, squeezing his eyes closed as he turned slightly away from Sam and Cas’ questioning gazes. “Yes, sir. We will be.”

“Good. I’ll see you tonight.” John hung up without another word. Dean sighed, tossing the phone aside and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice was rough with sleep, but he could still detect the notes of concern. It seemed only natural to reach for him, and Castiel reached back, locking their fingers together. Dean met his eyes briefly before looking to Sam.

“Dad’s coming tonight,” he told them both, focusing on his brother.

“Good,” Sam said. “I’m ready to get out of here.”

Dean sighed, steeling himself as he looked back at Cas, who looked resigned and unhappy. “I can’t come with you.” He didn’t say it as a question, and Dean felt something like thorns twisting in his chest as he shook his head mutely in agreement.

Sam piped up again, sounding puzzled. “Why not? I’m sure dad would love to meet the hunter that saved our asses last night, compare notes--”

“Sammy,” Dean interrupted in a slightly hoarse voice, “Cas isn’t...he’s not a hunter.”

“I’m a selkie,” Cas told Sam before he could ask. Sam looked shocked for a second before his eyes lit up with wonder.

“A selkie?! That’s amazing! I was wondering how you got to me so far underwater, but that explains so much! Wait, so….that coat…” He looked at Dean, who blushed and hugged the coat in question tighter around him like a blanket. “That’s…”

“My selkie skin, yes,” Castiel nodded. “I dropped it, and Dean gave it back to me. It’s rightfully his….as am I.” He looked at Dean fondly as he softly added the last three words, squeezing the hand he still held.

“....oh. Dad won’t...understand…..” Sam murmured in dawning comprehension, and Dean shot him a look. Sam’s gaze was far too understanding, he knew that Dean was worried about more than just Cas’ inhuman status when it came to John finding out about him. Sam may know and accept that Dean was less than heterosexual, but their father was an old-fashioned man and set in his ways, as Dean had learned the hard way. He looked away from Sam uncomfortably.

“....will you still see each other?” Sam asked tentatively.

“Yes,” Dean answered for both of them without thinking, earning a surprised-but-pleased look from Cas and an encouraging smile from Sam.

“Good. I’ll help, if I can. …… I think I’m gonna go for a walk,” he said faux casually, getting up and slipping on his shoes, out the door before Dean could come up with a reasonable protest.

Now alone, Dean bit his lip as he looked at Cas. The selkie gave him a rueful smile, cupping his face gently. “I’ll miss you,” he murmured, and Dean’s heart skipped a beat.

“I’m sorry, it’s just….my dad…..”

“You don’t have to apologize, or explain. So long as you always come back to me.” Dean swallowed hard, reaching up and covering Castiel’s hand with his own to hold it to his cheek as he nodded, unable to form words. It seemed enough for Castiel, who smiled warmly and pressed another chaste kiss to Dean’s lips, lingering long enough for Dean to catch a hint of the ocean on his breath as Cas murmured against his lips, “I’ll always be waiting for you, Dean. I’m yours.”

Dean exhaled raggedly as he shut his eyes, pulling away to bury his face against Castiel’s chest. Castiel wrapped strong arms around him and gathered him close, rubbing soothing circles onto his back as Dean silently struggled to compose himself. His fingers buried themselves in the shirt he’d lent to Castiel and he sniffed quietly, pulling away. His eyes were glossy but no longer threatening to spill. “I’ll come back….two weeks from now, at sunset. Somehow, I’ll be back on that beach. Can you be there?”

Smiling brilliantly, Castiel nodded. “I’ll be here.”

Dean took a deep breath and lurched over to grab the pad of paper and a pen from the nightstand, scribbling down his most current phone number and digging out a bunch of loose change and petty cash from his bag and giving it all to Cas. “If...if you need anything...find a payphone, or something, and you can reach me here.”

Castiel took the paper and the money with reverence, fingers catching at Dean’s as he rose to his feet. “Thank you, Dean. I suppose this is goodbye?”

Dean laced their fingers together briefly, giving a gentle squeeze and tugging him along, intending to walk him home. “No, it’s…..see you later.”

They walked in silence back to the waterfront, hand in hand. It was awkward for a moment, Dean worried his palm might be sweaty and Castiel taking quicker steps than him. Then he adjusted his gait, shifted his grip so his hand wrapped around Dean’s, fingers resting on the back of his hand, and their tempo fell in sync. It was as easy and natural as breathing, and Dean found a grin tugging at his lips.

When they got to the water, Castiel plucked at his borrowed clothes, and Dean put his free hand over Cas’ to still it. “Keep them. For next time I see you. Besides, they kinda suit you,” he grinned. Cas smiled brilliantly.

“A token in return for my coat. Fitting.” He held Dean’s face one last time, touch lingering as he leaned in and kissed him slow and deep enough to take Dean’s breath away. “Until next time, Dean.” He untangled himself from Dean, slipping into the water and vanishing.

Dean’s “Bye, Cas” hung unsaid on tingling lips, and he stayed staring at the rippling water until he heard Sam calling his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it my birthday so have another update :3


	6. Chapter 6

When the familiar growl of the impala rolled up that night, Dean and Sam were packed and ready to go. They’d gone together to check on Katy and left their emergency contact number in case she ever needed help again, but she seemed reassured to know the monster that had nearly claimed her twice would no longer be hunting anyone.

Dean had awkwardly taken her number (written in neat cursive, with a heart doodled by her name) because he didn’t know a way to say no to a blushing and grateful girl with pretty brown eyes, but the note got wadded up and shoved in his pocket as soon as they left. All he could think about was blue eyes and sand between his toes as he watched Castiel vanish.

Thankfully, Sam didn’t pester him too much about his...situation; instead he’d endeavored all day to distract Dean. He’d bought pie, let Dean pick what movies they’d watched, and generally made himself a pest so Dean wouldn’t get a chance to mope.

Dean really loved his brother sometimes. Even if he could be a little shit.

Now he sat quietly in the backseat with Sam as they drove away, staring out the window while Sam filled John in on fabricated details of the hunt that they’d schemed up together so they wouldn’t have to mention Sam’s near-drowning and Castiel. Dean absently rolled the ring Castiel had gifted to him between his fingers, trying to soothe the bittersweet ache in his chest that seemed to grow stronger the more miles that were put between him and where he’d last seen Castiel.

It was ridiculous, because Castiel could be miles farther away than he even realized, but the farther they got from the beach, the more profoundly he felt that loss.

Eventually, he dozed off with his head pressed against the cool window, the murmurs of his family and the purr of the impala soothing background noise as he faded into fitful dreams of seafoam, bubbles and glowing silver-blue eyes.

 

* * *

 

Dean rarely had things to look forward to in his life. It was just a constant blur of being on the move and hunting and recovering and being on the move again, occasionally with small reprieves to rest when he was seriously injured. So any time a deadline for something exciting loomed, it felt like every second between Dean and the anticipated event dragged out to last an hour.

When he was supposed to be researching, he glared at the clock, willing it to tick faster. When his phone rang he practically pounced on it, hoping for a gravelly voice in his ear, but all he got was Bobby’s rough growl informing him he knew what he was after (rugaru) and how to kill it (barbecue that sumbitch extra crispy).

Sam was actually in school and John was fuck-knows where, so Dean prepared his homemade flamethrower and went after the rugaru on his own, hunting it down to the warehouse he was sure it was using for its feedings.

The good news? He found it mid-feeding and it was so distracted on gorging itself on longpig that it didn’t even hear him coming, and flamethrower being a distant weapon, he stayed relatively clean for once.

The bad news? Burnt rugaru flesh smelled  _ rank _ , and that plus all the gore and other gross smells that accompanied the indignities of death had Dean holding his nose, barely suppressing a gag as he did a sweep of the warehouse to make sure that the rugaru really was alone. Bobby had said it probably would be, but John had taught Dean to never assume and always make sure himself. Finding no sign of any others, Dean trekked back to the motel room.

Sam was there….with a friend. A  _ girl. _ Dean froze on the threshold, hand on the doorknob, smirk slowly growing on his face. “Heya Sammy.”

Sam leveled a glare at him, his hands moving stiltedly as he spoke to his friend. “Hey jerk. My brother just got back, Eileen. It’s fine if you want to ignore him.”

“Now now, any friend of Sam’s is a friend of mine,” Dean said gallantly as he sauntered over, letting the door fall shut behind him. He got comfortable on his own bed facing the two of them, grinning.  _ And any distraction is a welcome one, _ he thought to himself, grin never slipping. He offered a hand to the girl...Eileen, Sam had called her. “I’m Dean.”

“Eileen Leahy,” she said, shaking his hand. Her voice was a bit odd, her tone flat and her words slurred slightly.

“Eileen is Deaf,” Sam jumped in quickly, his hands awkwardly signing what he spoke for Eileen.

“But I can read lips,” she added. Dean broke into his trademark devil-may-care grin.

“Good, that means you can read all the stories I want to tell you about Sam,” Dean told Eileen, taking care to face her and speak clearly. She smiled.

“I’d like that,” she said, sealing Sam’s fate as the youngest Winchester groaned a protest. Dean just barked a laugh, slapping his thighs before getting up.

“I like her, Sam. I’m gonna make some popcorn for us all and then we can chat.” Dean went into the kitchen to do just that. He didn’t hear any voices, so he assumed they were talking in just sign language so he couldn’t eavesdrop (clever little sneak). Dean quickly microwaved some popcorn, grabbing a beer for himself and sodas for Eileen and Sam and settling back down.

They spent the afternoon together, Dean telling Eileen all of his favorite stories about Sam, but also bragging about how smart Sam was, all of which embarrassed Sam to no end and delighted Eileen. She in turn told them about how they were in the same English class, and Sam let her copy his notes on his first day when she couldn’t see what the teacher was saying or writing. After that they started studying together and quickly became friends. 

Watching them together, Dean couldn’t help smiling fondly. They were young, but it was obvious they were sweet on each other and she was a nice girl.  _ Good for you, Sammy, _ he thought. If anyone could make something work with a civ outside the life it was Sam; he'd always been better at Dean with the “acting normal” part of their life.

So, when Dean dropped Eileen off at home that night, he slipped her Bobby’s address with a note encouraging her to write him letters when they were gone, slipped into her pocket while she and Sam were saying good night.

Driving them back to the motel, Dean glanced at Sam and chuckled. “You like her, huh?”

Sam immediately turned beet red. “What? No! She’s just--we’re just friends!!” he protested vehemently.

That drew a full belly-laugh from Dean. “It’s okay, Sam. If you want to try and make something work….you know I’ll support you, and help how I can.”

It was quiet for a few moments before Sam spoke again. “.....don’t tell dad. He won’t like it.”

Dean sighed, good mood instantly deflating. “Yeah, Sammy, I know. I won’t tell him,” he promised tiredly. He pretended not to notice Sam’s concerned puppy dog eyes turning his way.

“Do you want to talk about Cas?” he asked tentatively.

Dean tensed slightly, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Nothing to talk about,” he said gruffly, now glowering at the road.

“You miss him.”

“.....maybe.”

“Dean.”

Dean sighed. “Fine. Okay. I miss him. I….I like him a lot.” He shot Sammy a sheepish grin. “Remember that kappa that dad sent me after?” At Sam’s nod, he continued, “Thing got the better of me, nearly drowned me. Cas saved me, like he did with you. That was when I learned what he was and….the nature of our relationship, at least according to him. Did all kinds of research after, and I planned to stay away from him, but….when that glashtyn took you….” Dean shuddered, his voice minutely shaking as he continued. “I didn’t….I couldn’t think of another option, so I called his name and….he came. And he saved you. Twice over. I think it was then that I started to feel like I could trust him. He was on my side, like he said he was. In our life, I dunno, that’s….it’s a rare thing, finding someone you can trust and don’t have to hide things from.” Going quiet for a few moments, Dean finally finished: “I guess the guy does mean a lot to me, selkie or not.”

Dean risked a glance at Sam, the first one since he started his little monologue. The bitch was giving him the sappiest heart-eyes in his arsenal.

Dean groaned, “Stop.”

“I’m just happy for you, Dean! All those girls you used to pick up….sure, they made you feel good for a while, but they didn’t make you  _ happy. _ Cas...this guy, he does, I can tell. And I’m happy you found him,” Sam said sincerely. “When are you going to see him again?”

Dean sighed, ignoring the heat he could feel dusting his cheeks. “....next Friday. We promised to meet back on the beach.”

“I’ll help you come up with a reason to get away from dad,” Sam vowed, grinning. Dean laughed quietly.

“Thanks, Sammy.” He parked the car outside the motel they were staying in and went back in with Sammy, starting to pick up the popcorn bowls and empty soda cans and beer bottles while Sam sat down to finish his homework. Once he’d finished cleaning, Dean started making them burgers for dinner. 

Sam wandered in, sitting on the counter and watching Dean cook. He had a pensive look on his face that meant he’d been thinking seriously and now wanted to talk to Dean about what was on his mind.

Dean sighed, flicking a small piece of ground beef at Sam. “What?”

Sam scowled as he picked it out of his hair, wrinkling his nose. “Gross, Dean, don’t throw food at me.”

“Then don’t stare at me like I’m some science project of yours. What’s on your mind, Sam?” Dean groused, focusing on the food again.

“Cas is a selkie.”

Dean gave him an exasperated look. “We established that, yes.”

“....he gave you his skin. You kept it.”

“....yes,” Dean agreed cautiously, wondering where Sam was taking this, a small knot forming in his stomach.

“Inselkietermsthatmeansyou’remarried,” he blurted in a rush. It took Dean a moment to interpret what he’d said and when he did he glared, face burning.

“No.”

“You wear a ring around your neck that I never saw before you met Cas,” Sam said with a sheepish expression, but his jaw had a stubborn set to it that told Dean his little brother wouldn’t let this go easily. Dean scowled. Of  _ course _ Sam had noticed, observant little bitch.

Dean grudgingly muttered, glowering at the sizzling food, “In selkie terms, yes. That’s how Cas sees us. And that’s why he gave me this--” Dean touched where he could feel the ring sitting against his chest under his shirt. “--but I’m not married to the dude. I just….”

“Like him. A lot,” Sam finished for him, earning a swat in retaliation that he nimbly leapt off the counter to dodge. “You liiiiiiiiiike him~! Dean likes Ca-aaaas!” Sam taunted in a sing-song from the far side of the kitchen, grinning wickedly.

“One more word and I’ll show Eileen the pictures from when I put Nair in your shampoo!” Dean threatened, pointing his spatula at Sam for dramatic effect. Sam contemplated this.

“Then I’ll tell Cas about your obsession with cowboys and  _ Dr. Sexy, M.D. _ ,” he countered.

“I’ll tell Eileen about your noxious farts,” Dean retorted, blush darkening.

Sam huffed. “Okay, okay, truce?” he offered. Dean relaxed, sighing in relief.

“Truce,” he agreed. “Now shut up and let me finish dinner, bitch.”

Sam grinned. “Love you too, jerk.”


	7. Chapter 7

Sam was a conniving little schemer, Dean had to give him credit. With Sam’s help he was able to fabricate a case back in the area so he’d have an excuse to go back to where he was meant to meet Castiel without making John suspicious. 

Dean planned it out carefully. Wednesday, two days prior to when he was meant to meet Castiel, he presented the fake case he’d compiled to John before he’d had his coffee. He got a squint, and a grunt accompanied by a nod. Dean glowed from the small victory and scurried off to get ready to head out. He whispered a promise to tell Sam how it went, and then he was in the impala racing west, heart pounding as the road flew under him.

He arrived in town midday, and his first stop was to pick up shoes for Cas so they could walk around without his feet getting hurt or him getting odd looks. Dean also got water and some snacks, and booked a motel room for him (and Cas) to sleep  in while he was there.

He still had most of the day before he was supposed to meet Cas, so he decided to freshen up after being on the road. He took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, and shaved away the little bits of stubble that had started to grow on his jaw before changing into fresh clothes, just jeans and a t-shirt and flannel blue button-up on top, followed by Cas’ coat.

His battered  _ Slaughterhouse Five,  _ a gun and a pocket knife (old habits die hard, he felt naked without basic defense weapons after 14 years of hunting) also got tucked in his backpack at the last minute. Satisfied with his haul, he trekked to the beach in the early evening.

Since it early spring there was a bit of a crowd, but Dean was prepared to wait them out. He settled in the sand and sipped his water, Dean snagged a spot to wait and pulled out his book. It was rare he got a chance to just read like this, and he enjoyed the comfort of an old favorite to distract him from the excited nerves making his stomach twist.

By the time the sun was setting Dean was about a third of the way into his book, and most stragglers had vacated the beach, so Dean dogeared his place and left his belongings in the sand, walking to the water. 

He waited, but….no Cas yet.

Biting his lip, Dean waded into the water up to his calves, sucking in a sharp breath at the bite of cold on his sun-warmed skin. Taking a deep breath, he sat in the water so it lapped around his waist, skimming his fingers through the water and murmuring, “Castiel…..Cas.” He felt a bit ridiculous, speaking to the open ocean, but it  _ had _ worked before, why shouldn’t it now? Closing his eyes and sinking his fingers into the wet sand, he thought about Cas’ eyes and how it felt when he kissed Dean and the way he’d held Dean as they slept, and spoke his name again, fervent like a prayer:  _ “Castiel.” _

“Hello, Dean,” came the soft reply off to his side. Opening his eyes and twisting, his heart skipped a beat as he saw Cas smiling in a way that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“You’re here,” Dean breathed, reaching for him. Cas swam over and slipped into his arms.

“Did you think I wasn’t going to show?” he asked quietly, nose pressed to Dean’s collar as he inhaled.

“When it started to get late and you hadn’t shown, I worried….”

“Dean,” Castiel interrupted gently, “I’ll always come when you call.” He brought Dean’s hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “I’m very happy to see you.”

With a blush, Dean forced out past a dry throat: “I….I missed you, Cas.” The anxiety of admitting that was eased by the way Castiel’s eyes lit up.

“I missed you as well.” He took Dean’s face in his hands and kissed him lightly, and Dean melted into it with a quiet sigh of the selkie’s name. Castiel hummed, his eyes a bit hooded as he pulled away. “Yes, I missed that very much.”

Dean blushed darker, but grinned. “Kissing me is that addictive?”

Running a thumb along Dean’s lower lip, a hint of a smirk shown on Cas’ face as he looked at Dean. “You have no idea. But, it’s late, and this water is far too cold for you. Let’s go dry off.”

“R-right,” Dean stuttered, getting to his feet and holding Cas’ hand as the waded onto the shore. Dean rushed to collect his stuff, babbling a bit as he led Cas by the hand. “So, I got a room for us to stay in for tonight, and then I thought tomorrow we could go into town, hang out and find fun stuff to do, I have my credit cards so I can pay for everything and we can get you other clothes to wear if you like, I got you shoes but I had to guess what size you are so you’ll have to tell me if they don’t fit--”

“Dean.”

“--and I don’t really know what you like to do, so you gotta tell me if you get bored, man, because I don’t want you to just do something because you think I want to do it--”

_ “Dean.” _ Castiel spoke louder, and Dean’s jaw clicked as his mouth snapped shut abruptly, but Cas just looked amused as he squeezed Dean’s hand. “Relax.” Dean took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and nodding. “Better?”

“...better.” Dean smiled sheepishly, running his free hand through his hair. Cas smiled encouragingly.

“Let’s rest, for tonight, and we’ll figure out tomorrow when we wake up.”

“Right. Yes. Good plan.” Nodding again, Dean brought Castiel back to the room he’d rented. His wallet, some hunting equipment, and clothes he’d changed out of were scattered all over the place, and he ducked his head. “S-sorry, it’s kind of messy--”

“I’m with you, so it’s perfect,” Castiel reassured. Dean blushed harder, suppressing what might have been a hysterical giggle trying to bubble up. “May I borrow clothes to sleep in again?”

“Yeah, Cas, of course. Help yourself.” Dean gestured vaguely at his duffel, plopping down on the edge of the bed as Cas settled on the floor. He seemed intent on pawing through all of Dean’s belongings, examining every object from his toothbrush to his razor to his socks with apparent fascination. Dean just watched, amused by the childlike wonder on the selkie’s face. Eventually, curiosity seemingly sated, Castiel plucked out another t-shirt, a pair of boxers, and a change of socks, and excused himself into the restroom.

Dean laughed softly, changing into sleep clothes himself and leaning back against the headboard of the bed while he waited, stretching his legs out and grabbing his books again.

Castiel came back in quietly, settling by his side and watching him with the same intense regard he’d given Dean’s belongings. Clearing his throat, Dean glanced up and raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading...? I don’t get a lot of downtime to just read for pleasure, so I’m revisiting one of my favorite books.”

“That’s how humans pass down tales, is it? By recording them on paper?” Castiel clarified.

Dean nodded, then paused. “You….don’t have books? Do you know how to read?”

Castiel’s brows furrowed at the questions. “My kind traditionally pass stories down orally, but we have a few recorded ones in our own language. I doubt you’d understand it, nor would I understand yours.” He paused, picking at a loose thread in the duvet, looking down. Sensing his hesitance, Dean waited patiently, touching the back of his hand lightly. Glancing up, Castiel murmured almost shyly, “That’s...a favorite story of yours?”

“Uh...yeah. Yeah, I like this book a lot," Dean answered almost shyly, giving Cas a quizzical look.

“Would you...read to me?”

_ Oh. _ Smiling warmly, Dean nodded. “Sure, Cas. C’mere.” Dean opened his arms, but rather than settling against him, Cas opted to lay with his head on Dean’s lap, an arm slung loosely around his hips. Dean pursed his lips, but...he didn’t mind the position. In fact, it allowed him to hold the book in one hand and pet Cas’ hand with the other, the dark curls tangled and rough under his fingers. Yeah, Dean could handle this.

Quietly, he began to read to Cas, until he heard the selkie’s breathing go quiet and even and he glanced down to see Cas fast asleep. Dean stopped reading, but kept stroking his hair, the motion soothing to him as he read.

Eventually his eyes got tired, and he managed to flick off the light and slide down, pulling Cas into his arms without waking him and holding the selkie close. As he allowed sleep to claim him, Dean’s final thought was how nice and easy this was, and how he wouldn't mind more of it.


End file.
